For her
by Libious
Summary: At the heart of every legend there is a grain of truth.


**Song for the dance: FAUN - Federkleid**

* * *

"Granny, granny!" A little voice squeaked somewhere close to an elder rabbit's elbow. The aged doe looked down to see one of her great grandchildren pulling at the sleeve of her coat.

"Ah, Lucy." Her lips formed a fond smile, as she reached out to pat the little one's head. "What is it, my child?"

The small rabbit girl returned the smile. "Where are you going?"

Those words caused the elderly doe to chuckle. "I am heading to the Lavender Hill, it's that time of the year, after all." With this said, she firmly gripped her walking stick in the other paw and started walking.

The little doe followed her grandmother, keeping to her side. "What time?" She inquired, with the typical child curiosity and bluntness.

The response she got was an another smile. "Why don't you come with me and see for yourself?"

Lucy beamed at the idea and expressed this with a happy squeal, while hopping in the air.

Their trip was a peaceful one, the dangers that dwelled in the woods surrounding their small town were long gone, subdued by a mythical force. As the two does were slowly, due to granny's pace, marching through the eastern part of the forest, Lucy entertained herself by straining from the beaten path and running around the trees or jumping from occasional boulders. After some time the path started going upwards, marking the foot of the hill. It wasn't a hard way, not something that one would have to climb on. Still, it took its toll on the elderly rabbit, as she practically inched her way toward the top.

Seeing her granny's trouble, Lucy offered her help and together they moved forward. It was clear that the path wasn't an easy one for the old doe, and she even had to take several breaks, sitting on rocks or a hollow log. Nevertheless, she persisted to move on, with great determination painted on her face.

Lucy couldn't understand why was her grandma so insistent on getting to a place in the middle of nowhere, at the cost of great exhaustion. She even asked several times, but granny would always smile and tell her to be patient. An extremely difficult task for a child. Still, she was determined to know the answer, so she helped her grandma getting to the top of the hill, even if just to learn what was this about.

Once they were there, the elderly doe gladly dropped on a simple wooden bench. This surprised the girl, as she didn't expect something like this in such a remote place.

Her reaction was didn't go unnoticed and her granny chuckled. "You're thinking what's a bench doing in a place like this. It's simple, your grandfather made it for me. A very long time ago."

"But why here?"

"Because this place is special." The old doe indicated the area.

The hill was actually high enough to rise above the tree line of the forest, with no trees growing on the top of it. From here, one could see the town, the sea of trees, as well as the enormous mountains not so far in the distance.

Lucy sat down on the grass beside her granny's legs. "Why is it special?"

"Do you know the legend of the Weeping Guardian?"

The small doe nodded immediately. "Yeah! It's the one about the guardian spirit that protects our town!"

Granny patted her on the head. "Yes, but the story told is not all there is to it. You see, every depiction of the guardian, whether in a statue or in a drawing shows him crying. But, do you know why?"

Lucy shook her head.

The elderly doe was about to answer when she blinked and then looked up. "Ah, it's time. Now you will be able to see for yourself."

Her granddaughter tilted her head a bit, but then turned around to look at whatever she was watching.

And her jaw dropped.

In the air above the very centre of the hill's top, several thin blue lines twirled. They moved seemingly without any particular order, but as seconds passed, more lines appeared and started forming a shape. In a short amount of time, all of the lines connected with each other, creating a spectral outline of… a fox.

The vulpine figure crouched on the ground, as the two does stared at it with silence. Its features were becoming more and more detailed, to the point of Lucy withholding a gasp, at how real the apparition seemed.

Now it stood up, holding an equally spectral object in its paw.

"Is that-" Lucy whispered.

"A tambourine." Her granny finished for her. "As always."

" _Always?_ " The small doe turned to her.

Meanwhile the fox lifted the instrument and shook its paw, creating a faint echo of a sound. Then it started moving.

"What is it doing?"

The elderly doe watched in silence how the ghastly frame began twitching the instrument and twirled around to the sound it made.

"He's remembering…"

Lucy didn't understand, but her further questions were delayed, as she watched the strange figure. Then, it became clear to her.

The fox was dancing.

It was a dance full of grace, with all movements smooth and perfectly executed. The vulpine figure was swaying and twirling to the music only it could hear. At one point of this breathtaking phenomenon, Lucy noticed that something was happening to the fox's face. The lines forming his expressions were calm, yet she couldn't shake off a feeling that they were hiding a great sorrow. And her intuition was proved right, when she noticed little, blue pearls of light, dripping from his face.

"He's… crying." She whispered. "The _Weeping Guardian,_ he's real!"

"Hundreds of years ago," granny's voice made her look at the elderly doe, "a doe and a fox met. They were cautious of each other at first, but very soon became friends. They started spending a lot of time together and their bond kept growing stronger. Even though they were of different species, _love_ blossomed between them, for it is a force that no power in the world can stop."

Lucy listened to this with her eyes wide open, while the fox danced and kept shedding tears, not missing one step in his movement.

"But fate can be a cruel thing, for they were never meant to be together. As he was a spirit and she but a mortal. Thus, even now, century after century…"

The fox's body spun to the silent music.

"...he dances every year…"

The tambourine shook, creating a barely audible echo.

"... on the day of her birthday, to honor her…"

Lucy watched as fox's arms moved in swift, elegant arches.

"...and he weeps…"

Spectral tears glittered in the air.

"... for the love he could never have."


End file.
